


Family Secrets

by letmeputuonhold



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Innocence, Loss of Innocence, M/M, Mafia AU, Multi, Realization, Wooyoung's dad is the mafia boss, based on say my name mv, im soft, innocent wooyoungie, no originality bc im lame sorry, san and jongho as brothers, san and jongho have a baby bro bc i said so, sheltered child, someone pls teach me 2 write, wtf is this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:22:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26718967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letmeputuonhold/pseuds/letmeputuonhold
Summary: Wooyoung is 9 years old when he first discovers the glass box in his house, and the boy inside it.Will this be the answer to all his questions, or will even more arise?Basically Wooyoung's an innocent sheltered son of the mafia boss, who has been keeping yeosang captive in his house for 6 years.
Relationships: Choi Jongho & Choi San, Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	1. Innocent discoveries

**Author's Note:**

> hibibbivi sorry i suck at summaries.  
> Hey bitches its me the writer no one reads back at it again.  
> Also  
> WHAT?? a story by me that isn't entirely about depression/ suicide??? Impossible.

I remember the first time I broke the rules.

For as long as I can remember, the door in the back of the house has always been locked. No one ever went in, no one ever came out. Once, when I was six years old, I tried to open it, looking for my mother. My dad found me, gently explained that there was nothing but boxes and old clothes, and that I must never go in there because the floor was old and unfinished, and I could get hurt.

Being six, I immediately and wholeheartedly accepted this as the complete truth. It wasn’t until I was around nine that I truly started to question it.

***

“Ready or not, here I come!” The joyful shout echoes through the hallway. I giggle, ducking behind curtains and vases as I search for the perfect hiding spot. Eventually, I find myself behind a table towards the back of the house, chuckling as I listen to the loud discoveries of my friends.

_“Just like how you shined a light on my dream_

_Whatever you do will work out as well,_

_When everything is giving you a hard time_

_I’ll always save this place for you…”_

I close my mouth, listening intently. Someone’s singing. It sounds like it’s coming from behind me. I turn my head, expecting a radio or something. Only then do I truly realize where I am.

I’m in the very back of the house, in front of a locked door.

But this time, it’s not locked.

The door is very slightly open, a draft of cool air fluttering the curtain next to me. I give a slight push, and it silently swings inward. I step cautiously into the room, not sure what to expect. Some small part of my brain still believes all I’ll find are locked chests and stacks of old books, insisting on clinging to some hope that he hadn’t lied to me.

My eyes scan the room, looking for a radio or speaker. The first thing that catches my eye is the creepy white statue to one side. The top half of a lady's body, like something from an old movie. An empty picture frame hangs by one corner, looking forgotten. There are more statues, and big white columns in four corners. In the middle of the room is a large glass case. 

I stumble forward hesitantly, expecting fish or a maybe a cool reptile. Instead, a boy my age stares back at me. I gasp, and jump back, running out of the room and slamming the door behind me.


	2. re-discovering lost memories

“Wooyoung! Where are you? You won!!”

I run toward the front of the house, already mostly convinced it was a dream.

“Mom? Can Mingi and Yunho and Soobin stay the night? Please!?”

• • •

_6 years later_

“Maybe it’s destiny

Please don’t let me go…”

I drop my glass. Glass shatters across the entire kitchen. Grape juice sprays across the white tile floor, seeping into my socks.

I’d thought I’d been dreaming, or imagining or something. I was nine years old, for heaven’s sake. We all think up weird stuff from our childhood. But there was no doubting it this time. Someone was singing. And once again, I’m near the locked door.

I leave the kitchen in a hurry, not bothering to clean up the purple stains across the floor, or to take off my sopping wet socks. My friend Mingi had taught me how to pick a lock last summer. Maybe now it’ll come in useful.

After numerous tries, the door swings open. _God, it looks so easy on TV…_ The thought is quickly wiped from my mind when I focus on the box in front of me.

It’s full of mist, steam or smoke maybe. But there’s no doubt about it. A boy stands in the middle of the box.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thx for reading!!


	3. Is he... Alive? Or am I stoned?

Instead of the young boy I was unconsciously expecting, the boy in front of me appears close to my own age. Chestnut brown hair curls over his forehead. His skin is smooth and looks… cold? Cold sounds right for some reason. His eyelids are lowered, like he’s somewhere between being asleep and awake. Ethereal. I look around for something that could be producing music, but it starts up again.

My eyes snap back to the boy on the box, and now I see his lips moving. He’s alive. _Oh my god there’s a living boy locked in a box in the back of my house._

It’s then that I decide that I am either crazy or high, though I’ve never seen things before today, and have never even done drugs. I stumble backward, but my foot catches on something and I fall (rather ungracefully) on my ass. His voice cuts off abruptly, eyes widening, hand falling from where it’d been pressed against the glass. I mean to stand up and run, but suddenly I’m staring into the most beautiful pair of eyes I’ve ever seen. They’re a light, gorgeous blue-green color, something I can only compare to the ocean, Galapagos or something.

His eyes are the only things about him that doesn’t look dead. They’re desperate and pleading, yet somehow devoid of all hope at the same time. Empty, but not. Suddenly, they’re full of urgency. He steps closer to the wall of glass, and says something. His voice is nothing more than a deep rumble. I shake my head, leaning forward. He tries again, and this time I hear him. “RUN.”

* * *

I jump, and…shake my head? A moment ago, I wanted nothing more than to leave this haunted room, but now I can’t make myself leave. I lean toward the glass wall, and speak loudly. “Can you hear me?” His eyes widen, and he nods slowly. I press a hand against the glass, and he mirrors me, so we are palm-to-palm, only a layer of glass between us. “My name is Wooyoung, Jung Wooyoung. Can I help you get out of there?” He shakes his head sadly and points behind me. At first, I'm confused. Weird paintings, an empty picture frame. Strange, but not necessarily alarming. Then, I hear the footsteps.

Several people, heading directly for the door. Which coincidentally happens to be the only way out of here.

The door swings inward. 


	4. Why do I feel like I know him?

My eyes dart across the room, searching. They light on a gray tarp in a back corner, and before I know it, I’m curled behind it like a child avoiding his bedtime. A man stalks into the room, and I burrow down, feeling his eyes scan the room.

His clothes are the color of charcoal, the dark fedora and mask shadowing his entire face. It’s the ring I notice. A simple silver band, with coiled round _things_ engraved around it. For some reason, it looks familiar. It matches the strange chains covering his mask and jacket. I shake my head to clear it, focusing on the men behind him.

• • •

“Bring him in.” Several men walk in, carrying a struggling boy. He looks younger than me (only by a couple years though), round face and pouty lips at odds with his muscular arms and body. His clothes are rumpled, white school uniform smeared with what is very obviously blood, his face bruised and lip split. It takes four men to hold him down. They tie him to the pillar to the left of the room, stuffing a random cloth into his mouth. The pure rage on his face is making _me_ shake, and I’m hiding in the corner. The man who seems to be in charge removes his ring, flipping it from finger to finger. I can’t remember where I’ve seen someone do that before, but it’s strangely familiar. The memory is there, barely tangible, just noticeable enough to be annoying. _Where have I seen that before?_ He chuckles, and it’s the most sinister thing I’ve ever heard, goosebumps flaring up and down my arms.

“Two down, five to go…”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don't love this chapter, but im posting anyway because yolo

I cautiously walk over to him, trying to figure out why he’s here. He must have done something to be dealt with like this, right?

“Hello?” My voice is tentative, and a lot shakier than I’d like it to sound. His eyes focus on me, and I realize how young he really is, only like 15. I rip the gag out of his mouth, figuring he can’t hurt me with his voice. He gasps, breathing in the stale air of the storage room. His eyes skim their way over me, not as fearful as I was expecting. “Well, hello.” His voice is almost exactly what I expected, light and soothing. I narrow my eyes, not really trusting him.

“What did you do?”

“Whadd’ya mean?”

“For my-those men to tie you up. You must’ve done something.”

He snorts. “I was born.”

“No, really.”

“I honestly don’t know. I’m waiting for my little bro outside school, and suddenly they grab me. Sure, I may have knocked the one guy out, but they grabbed me first.”

I’m confused. “But you must be a criminal, o-or something, you can’t just be _innocent_.”

His eyes narrow at that, and he laughs. It’s rough, without an ounce of humor in it. “Wow, sheltered much? You’d be surprised how many innocent people are abused every day.”

“Excuse you.” His mouth tightens, eyes suddenly flashing with anger.

“No, excuse you. You waltz right in here with all your rich prep kid shit, and immediately assume that I did something. I’m the reason the world’s biggest mafia boss just fucking kidnapped me and threw me in his garage.”

His words don’t really register. All I hear is _Mafia boss mafia boss mafia boss_

“What?!” My voice is more of a squeaky croak than the demand I was expecting. He rolls his eyes. “Jung Minho, literally the biggest mafia leader of our time? Guy with the snake ring? Ring a bell?”

“Wooyoung.” The boy in the box speaks up for the first time.

“He’s talking about your father.”


	6. ...Wait

“Who?”

“Wooyoung. Your father runs the mafia.”  
No.  
No, that’s not right. My father was a good person. A great dad. He sent me to school, took care of me my whole life after my mother died. He cares about me.  
It’s so ridiculous that I laugh.  
“My father? A mafia boss? You’re fucking kidding me.”  
His gaze darkens.  
Just as he opens his mouth to respond, the door slams open. As I turn I catch sight of the burly man reaching for me.  
There’s nowhere to go. I watch his hand come up, feel the sudden burst of pain bloom across my head, see the stars depicted in every comic ever. Then, nothing.  
  
***  
I blink as the memories slowly rewind and play, eventually coming to the inevitable conclusion that I had been knocked out-in my own house.  
Ok, so maybe that kid had a point after all.  
I’m in a different room this time. Empty and white. No pictures, no windows, no anything. A single fluorescent light on the ceiling. I can’t even find the door. No wonder they didn’t bother tying me up. There’s nowhere to go.

I don't know how long I wait, humming a little, staring at the blank walls, obsessively going over everything I can remember.

Honestly, I'm surprised I'm not freaking out more.  
A wall swings in, revealing an “invisible” door. Huh. I don’t bother to get up, figuring they’ve got me where they want me.  
The man looming over me is tall, just an inch or so taller than me. His eyes are a piercing light blue, like the sky on an October afternoon right before the sun starts to set.   
He also wears the black outfit- boots, suit, mask, hat. The only difference is the ring, or rather, the absence of one. He has the same chains across his chest and mask, but no ring on his left hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyy  
> so im working on updating i promise, but school is insane rn so... We'll see
> 
> Im doing my fucking best ok  
> anyways anyone who got this far in my story: I loooove you!! Tysm for reading, please leave a kudos, comment and/or subscribe if it seemed worth reading!!
> 
> ok bye

**Author's Note:**

> Also If anyone'd be willing to beta read for me i'll love u forever thx bye  
> Follow me on tumblr cowards https://not-today-thx.tumblr.com/


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